


Lotus Flower

by Topographical_Map_Of_Utah



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Chinese Mythology & Folklore, Cinderella Elements, Fairy Tale Elements, M/M, another impossible to tag fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-05 08:21:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11574150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Topographical_Map_Of_Utah/pseuds/Topographical_Map_Of_Utah
Summary: Once upon a time, a beautiful little girl was very near death, and her father was very determined to save her. So enters a prince, a pair of slippers, and a talking fish. The last one is somewhat out of place.





	Lotus Flower

It began at the edge of the lake outside their home, Baze dangling his toes in the water and whittling a toy dragon for his daughter. It was unlikely that she would live to play with it, but Baze couldn't break the habits of a lifetime. A craftsman separated from his craft, this was all he had left of that far off city life, one abandoned for the sake of a child's sickly state.

"Are you going to the city tomorrow, Bàba?" An airy voice asked at his side, indistinguishable from the breeze rolling across the water. Baze set aside his tools and took Xian's hand with a sigh, tracing its blue veins and oval nails, delicate as flower petals, the same shade of pink as her skin. The villagers thought the child a goddess, certain that Baze must have acquired her via supernatural avenues. After all, they reasoned, a man as grouchy looking as him couldn't have a child like that, let alone attract a woman beautiful enough to pass on such genetics.

The villagers kept Baze in low regards, to say the least. 

"Yes, little one." Smiling, Baze scooped up Xian and kissed her forehead, how light she was giving him pause. He was surprised she had managed to walk this far. He hadn't seen her out of bed in nearly a week. "What would you like me to bring you from the festival?"

"Slippers!" she lisped, revealing an even row of pearly teeth as she relaxed into his arms, catching as much breath as she could manage. She had described how she breathed once to Baze, said it was like drowning in her own lungs. "Gold ones."

"Gold? Like a princess, you are..." Baze peppered Xian's face with kisses, praying she wouldn't start hacking like she had in the morning. That had been terrifying. A daily event, but always terrifying.

"A princess? Like one living in the palace?" Xian brightened and curled her fingers in Baze's coarse hair, which he was thankful she had not inherited. It had earned him the nickname of Mule, as a child. "The big palace in the city? The one from the story?"

"Exactly that palace. You want to hear the story?" Baze offered. On script, Xian nodded, prompting Baze to launch into the well worn tale, bringing it to life in her eyes. "Well then. In a grand city at the heart of the province, there stands a beautiful palace."

"The palace of the Emperor." Xian already knew much of the plot, this story having filled many a long night of headaches and whimpering, an illness that was whispered to be a curse. "And who lives there?"

"The Emperor, his consorts, and the prince." 

"The prince of dragons." Xian chimed in. Though very real, to Xian the prince was simply a living myth, the driving force behind a campaign which had won them the far off northern front, which kept their home safe and the village at the foot of the hill undisturbed. She did not know her father had earned his scars in that same campaign.

"Yes, a fearsome prince and general." Baze agreed. "But wise, too. Whatever problem he is presented with, the prince finds a way to resolve it. Once, a dragon descended from the heavens and presented him with an impossible riddle, one which even the gods had trouble with..."

She dozed in his arms as he wrapped up the story, another old chestnut they both knew from back to front. It didn't mean they tired of it, though. By the end of it Xian was fast asleep, her chest barely rising with shallow, unsteady breaths. The child drew as much breath as a a desert did rain.

_She is dying, you know._

The words had come from the lake's edge, startling Baze out of his thoughts. As he watched, a creature raised its head from the water, slow and rather self-important. Baze supposed it was a fish, though it was the size of a horse and its scales glistened with the luster of a polished brass pot. And it spoke, which also set it apart from most of its species.

"Have I finally been driven mad?" Baze asked it, his voice low so as not to wake Xian.

_Is that any way to speak to a guardian spirit?_  The fish puffed out their cheeks and sighed, which Baze hadn't known fish could do. _I devote five years to watching over your daughter and this is the reception I get..._

"Wait, watching? You...you're her imaginary friend." Baze realized. What had Xian called them? She had told him, once, he thought. "She calls you Yú."

_Yes. I love your daughter, but she is not the most creative namer._  Yú cocked their head, looking at Xian.  _That medicine you plan on giving her, you know it will not work._

"I do not know that. And neither do you." Baze insisted. He had tracked down an apothecary in the city who claimed to have a cure for whatever it was that ailed the poor child. Some sinister sounding brew of organs and roots and dried appendages, but Baze was willing to try anything. No matter how hopeless the situation really was.

_She has been dying these five years._ Yú reminded him. _One more chemist's brew will not change that._

"Some job you're doing of protecting her, then." Baze couldn't help but say. "You're her guardian, aren't you? Guard her."

_Her mother did say you were a stubborn._ Yú tilted their head.  _She also sent me with a cure, but I suppose, if you don't want it..._

"A cure?" Perhaps Baze should be a bit kinder with this strange creature. Even if it was a bit of an ass. 

_Thank you for repeating what I just said. Yes, a cure. So do you want it or not?_

"Yes! Please," Baze added, lowering his voice when Xian squirmed. "Please."

_Well then. There is a lake on the outskirts of the city, and once the moon rises, at its shore you will find a single lotus flower. Pluck it, then remain until the royal lantern falls from the sky. The moment its flame is extinguished, you must return._

"You drive a hard bargain, fish." Xian stirred in his arms and Baze nodded. "But I suppose I should thank you."

_You are welcome._ Yú seemed to smile, drawing up their rubbery lips, giving Baze the impression of two noodles being pulled taut. _You must leave at dawn. And do try to enjoy yourself at the festival. That will lighten you up a little bit. Perhaps you'll even find a new mother or father for Xian..._

Yú held little hope in that respect, but it would do to keep some positivity in their life.

 

\------------

 

"Do you have to go, Bàba?"

"I am afraid so. I need to get you medicine so you get strong." Baze took Xian's hand and kissed it as he tucked her back in, pulling the blankets tight as though to pin her there. Over the past hour she had pleaded for two stories, ten hugs, four cups of water, and had put in one sly request for the tale of how he and her mother had met, one she knew Baze could never resist telling. He had gotten halfway through it before realising it had been a ruse to make him stay. She was a clever child. 

"Strong as you, Bàba?"

"Some day, I'm sure. Now be good for your aunt and rest, lotus flower. I'll see you soon." Baze promised, kissing her forehead and getting to his feet. The child was always drowning in kisses. "You just rest."

Mist shrouded the mountainside as Baze stepped out of the stable, clouds which had ventured too close to earth and were now left to languish. Yú swam up to him once more, right as Baze was heaving himself up onto the tired old warhorse he had become attached to. It was a grouchy old thing, but Baze related to it.

_Tell no one of our bargain. If you keep your silence and return to me with the flower by the first sunrise after the festival, she will be healed._ Yú promised. _But you must return on that day. If you do not, she will surely die._

"Of course I'll be back by then." The words came with the brazen, easy confidence of those days spent in armour and formations. After all, Baze did not know what could possibly compel him to remain in the city. Nothing, he firmly believed. Nothing at all.

 

\-------------

 

Baze kept his head down as he stomped through the bedecked streets, dazzling him with their reds and golds and scintillating flames. The stomping wasn't on purpose, really. The war had left him with a bad knee and he was too proud to use a cane. Although he worried he might dull the mood, with the way he was stalking, trying to stay out of the light. It was hard seeing as the lantern festival entailed a fair few lanterns. Unfortunately, the flickering red light wasn't very flattering. In Baze's opinion the only light he looked good in was none.

He wandered through streets lit up with laughter and lanterns, gnawing on a skewer of candied fruit and watching children dart in and out of alleyways, riddles and firecrackers in hand. Their parents milled around in loose groups, inspecting wares and bartering with the merchants whose smiles made your cheeks hurt. But Baze's scowl and gnarled nest of hair kept most vendors at bay, so their hawking and bargaining stalled as he passed. After all, he didn't reek of money; he just reeked. Two days of travel left one rather rank.

After searching and searching for the slippers (to no avail) he found himself in the palace courtyard amidst a humming, shifting crowd, each one like a spark in a bonfire, swirling up towards the looming shadow of the palace. Bored, Baze joined in the flow of people, still with a mouthful of hawthorn. Likely disrespectful, he considered as he looked up at the lantern lighting ceremony taking place at the top of the stairs, but it wasn't as though one of those guards would run down all two-hundred steps to tell Baze he should chew with his mouth closed.

Baze listened listlessly to proclamations and speeches and such from the advisor, a tiny, bug-eyed man being swallowed by his grey robes, giving the impression of a fish imprisoned in a cat's maw. At his side stood the Crown Prince, resplendent in his silken robes and ceremonial armour. A fearsome mask covered his face, dark wood expertly carved in the striking likeness of a dragon. The brow was painted in red and black, the scales outlined in sapphire blue, connoting fierceness in battle. Gold leaf was layered around two glistening pearls which served as iridescent eyes. As the advisor stepped back the eyes cast their kindly gaze out over the hushed assembly, strange and alive.

"To the good fortune of our people." The voice beneath the mask was strong and steady, the voice of a general rallying his troops. He lit his lantern and held it out, releasing it into the velvet night sky. "To the year to come." 

The crowd answered in an echoing chorus, all eyes on the figure of the prince before them. Why he wore a mask was a mystery throughout the province, and now that he was in front of them, the theories swirled around Baze, hushed voices pretending discretion.

"A horrific scar crosses his face like a river on a map..."

"The gods marked him at birth with a holy sigil upon which no mortal dare gaze..."

"...Born from the union of the empress and a god..."

"He has acne."

Baze turned away from the discussion and went off towards the food stalls again, the lantern up above in the corner of his eye. All that ceremony's pomp and circumstance hadn't really had an effect on him. He just wanted to buy some sweet dumplings for Xian and hurry back home. Hopefully they still had the sesame ones. She liked those ones.

Once the dumplings were secured Baze retrieved his horse from the stables, riding out to the lake Yú had spoke of. The water was a mirror of the night sky, and enthroned in the reflection of the moon he saw a solitary lotus, the pink curve of its petals like the gentle slope of smiling lips, the swell of blushing cheeks. Baze waded into the water and plucked it, inspecting its curious glow as he slogged back onto dry land and set it in a little box. Its golden shimmer was not one he could attribute entirely to moonlight.

He supposed this was the flower Yú spoke of. It looked pretty magical to him.

Firecrackers burst overhead in fractals of light, reflected shakily in the water. Still unimpressed, Baze crammed a dumpling into his mouth and eased himself down onto the grass to dry, pulling out his whittling project and wiping sesame seeds off of his cheeks. Now he had just to wait for that lantern to land. It was doing so with no sense of urgency, though. He could only hope that no one would come and disturb him while he waited. The two things he feared most in this world: his daughter's illness and small talk.

And abacuses, but he wasn't about to go into detail on that one.

 

\-------------

 

"Might I join you?"

Baze blinked awake with a start, wiping away the drool that had gathered on his cheek. He couldn't have fallen asleep. What if the lantern had fallen? What if he had failed? What if-

Then he saw the lantern drifting lazily overhead. That damn thing was sure taking its time. Once assured that the clock had yet to run out, he tilted his head to squint at whoever had woken him up. He was about to offer them a dumpling, then he froze, his arm still outstretched, bag in hand. Perhaps that would be deemed inappropriate, considering who he was faced with.

"I...'evening, Your Highness." He kept his arm outstretched towards the prince, not knowing what else to do. "Do you want a dumpling?"

"No, thank you." A laugh erupted behind the mask, bright and sudden, and somewhat unsettling when paired with his fangs and general air of effortless superiority. That likely came with being a royal. The prince ignored Baze's offering, but did take a seat on the stone beside him, casting aside his cloak and stretching in his tunic. It was a fancy tunic, to be sure, but it was far less intimidating than his armour. Or his mask, the mystery of which still baffled Baze. "What is your name?"

"Baze. Malbus."

"Then hello, Baze Malbus. I thank you for not grovelling. I hate grovelling..."

"I have a bad knee. I can't grovel." Baze looked askance at the prince, his brow furrowed. "If you do not mind me asking, Your Highness, how do you see?" he asked, inspecting the prince's wooden face. There didn't seem to be eyeholes. Up close the thing was even more intricate, pearls inlaid with gold, and horns curling with shards of jade. He feared that at any moment he would be eaten alive, gobbled up by those glittering green fangs. 

"Badly." 

"Then why not take it off?"

"I would still see badly." The prince pulled off his mask and smiled at Baze, his milky blue eyes crinkled in a smile. "Do you see? Because I don't."

It took a moment, but Baze couldn't help it when he threw his head back and laughed, the sound rolling off the empty lake, startling a lone crane into flight. He wasn't quite sure why that was funny. Just the absurdity of speaking to the prince was enough. 

"It takes a special man to laugh before a prince." The prince said slowly, once Baze's guffawing had simmered down to a pneumatic wheeze. "And a blind prince at that."

"Oh." To be executed now would be unfortunate. "My apologies, Your Highness."

"I respectfully disregard your apology. No one ever jokes around with me. I find myself enjoying it. And don't bother with the highnesses." The prince shrugged. "I'm Chirrut. Just Chirrut."

Relief almost led to Baze collapsing on the riverbank, but he managed to guide himself down under his own volition, though his legs were somewhat shaky.

"Then hello, Just Chirrut. And what is a prince doing on the outskirts of the city?" he asked, realising the silence was dragging on too long. He was also curious as to why the prince had eschewed a night of feasting and revelling for the smell of rotting reeds and donkey dung. The palace was likely more comfortable than this muddy little riverbank.  

"Well, the lantern always lands here." Chirrut explained, relaxing on his log. "Come wind, come rain, come snow or sleet, it always finds its way to this same spot. I'm just making sure it hasn't lost its way." 

"Hm." Baze took in the soft edges of his features, like stone sanded beneath a river's current. He was no god or demon, and there was no sigil stamped across his face. He was a man, just like any other.

Well, perhaps more attractive than some others, but that was an unimportant detail.

"You can't see it, though." Baze pointed out. "How do you know it has landed?"

"Trust." Chirrut said simply. "So tell me, Baze Malbus. Is the lantern landing here?" The silence that followed made a smug grin spread across his face. "Well, then."

"Can I be imprisoned for telling the prince to shut up?"

"I don't believe so."

"Then shut up."

"Gladly."

They sat together in a comfortable silence after that, the lake whispering below them and fireworks exploding above them. When Baze asked why he bothered with such a display, Chirrut just said he liked the noise of it all, the pomp and sudden surprise when the sky cracked overhead like an egg. Regrettably, Baze found himself enjoying Chirrut's company, which directly interfered with his plan of rushing home the second the lantern touched the water. Perhaps he could get an extension. That was how spells worked, wasn't it? He hoped it was, but Baze was not what most would consider an authority on the subject.

**Author's Note:**

> so this is a thing that is happening for some reason


End file.
